


A Long Drought, followed by a short Shower

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have been getting worse all the time. The Scorpio's crew is exhausted and nearly out of options and resources. Add to that the crew tensions and personal grief, and all Tarrant wants is some quiet time to himself.</p><p>But one of the limited resources is water recycling. Well, he's shared showers with worse people than Kerr Avon. </p><p>Turns out a shower was just what Tarrant needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Drought, followed by a short Shower

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

"How long's it going to take to get to where ever it is we're going?" Vila asked as he slumped into a flight deck seat with a groan. It was fairly obvious he was suffering from a hangover and in general displeased with life.

"Three weeks," Avon replied.

"Wonderful," Vila groaned. "Three weeks in this tub with you lot." Scorpio's accommodations had never been designed for so many. Her life support was adequate, but comfort was a joke.

"Speaking of tubs," Dayna said, "Let's get the washing rota assigned. I want to clean up." Digging out to reach Scorpio in the hangar after Zukan's explosions had partially collapsed the corridors had been a filthy job.

Avon nodded. "We'll take it in pairs- ten minutes each pair." He wasn't terribly fresh either, after rolling around on the sand on Betafarl. Grit was visible in his hair. "While the water supply recycles, recycling requires energy. As we no longer have a base at which to refuel, we had best economize."

Soolin spoke up hastily before Vila's suddenly eager look could express itself in words, "Dayna and I will go together."

Vila looked at Avon. "I suppose you'll get it to yourself." His gaze turned cold. "I know that _I_ won't share with you, Avon."

Avon gazed back at Vila, expressionlessly. "You've always been afraid of getting your hands dirty, haven't you?"

Tarrant cleared his throat. It looked as if Avon and Vila were about to start up the quarrel they'd been at since Malodaar. He was sick of it. He'd buried what was left of Zeeona a few hours ago, and all he wanted was some quiet time to mourn her. "I'll go with Avon."

Avon whirled to stare at Tarrant for a long moment. "Fine." Then he turned back to scan the rest of the crew. "Any objections to us taking the first shower? No, I didn't think so." Avon strode off to the chamber at the rear of the flight deck without waiting for an answer.

Tarrant shrugged and followed him. Avon's fuse was so short these days even a hot glance was enough to set him off. And Tarrant just didn't have the energy for another fight right now. Just. Not right now. 

They stripped behind the flimsy privacy partition they'd set up soon after acquiring the ship, put their clothes into the sonic cleaner and set the controls for the shower. Tarrant noticed that Avon had put on weight. He suspected Avon was the type to comfort himself with food. Anyone who made talking such a game was probably an oral type, Tarrant vaguely remembered from a pre-Psych course. Something like that. He was too tired to think, but he couldn't not think about Avon. The man positively demanded undivided attention even when all he did was brush past smelling like expensive cologne, or even more expensive cognac. Tarrant wasn't sure what self-destructive behaviour Avon was committing, but he was fairly sure overeating and overusing drugs-- to stay awake, to sleep, to numb the pain, whatever-- weren't his only outlets for the pressure they all felt.

Sometimes he even felt sorry for Avon. Not often. The man had made his bed, he could damn well sleep in it. Tarrant had been more than willing to be their captain, or even Avon's second, but no, Avon would listen to no one. No one except Blake, that is. Blake hung like a spectre between him and Avon, he could see himself being compared and found wanting. That was actually rather amusing because from the stories Vila told, Avon and Blake got on like fuel and igniter.

"Enjoying the view?" Avon asked, with an edge to his voice.

Tarrant's head jerked up and he realized that while musing he'd been staring at Avon's bare crotch. He looked up to meet Avon's eyes, embarrassed. "What? Oh, sorry. I... must have phased out."

Avon's expression softened. "Yes, well. Let's just get it over with, shall we?" Avon stepped into the shower. 

Tarrant joined him, closing the force partition and turning on the water. "Er, Avon. I can't reach the soap dispenser." The shower was really not built for two.

"Right." Avon got some liquid soap and began scrubbing Tarrant's chest. Tarrant made a squeak of protest. Avon grinned at him. "Considering the proximity, this is more efficient."

Tarrant subsided, giving in to Avon's logic even though he suspected there was a flaw in it. "Well, give me some soap and I'll do you at the same time." Avon obliged and Tarrant began washing Avon. They were close. Awfully close. Tarrant began to be embarrassed by something else. And he couldn't even back away. Avon's grin returned and widened.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a normal, healthy response." Avon pushed his own rising erection against Tarrant. "And when you consider the likely lack of privacy for the next three weeks, why shouldn't we indulge now when it's convenient?"

Tarrant nearly swallowed his tongue. "Er, Avon, they'll be expecting us to come out in ten minutes."

Avon leaned forward and kissed him. Tarrant choked and pulled away, whacking his head on the wall. "AVON! No, don't!"

"Are you sure?" Avon reached down to caress Tarrant's cock. "Quite sure?"

"Oh, fuck." Tarrant leaned against the wall, giving Avon as much room as possible. "Do whatever you want, Avon. What does it matter?"

"That's right," Avon said while fondling and pumping Tarrant's cock to full hardness. "What does it matter? Anna and Zeeona are ...gone. This is meaningless, just an animal reaction because neither of us is quite dead yet." Avon went to his knees and carefully washed the soap off Tarrant's genitals. "I don't even like you."

Tarrant moaned as Avon handled him gently, stroking his balls and pulling on his foreskin. He splayed his hands against the wall. "I... don't like you... just as much."

Avon chuckled and took Tarrant in his mouth. Tarrant gasped and grabbed Avon's hair. He couldn't understand why he was so desperate. It wasn't as if he'd been deprived. He and Zeeona only this morning... oh, no, don't think of her, don't think of her at all. Avon is here, and he's alive, and real and it doesn't, doesn't matter, not to either of them. For a wonder Avon made no protest, and even seemed to relax as Tarrant took control, forcing him down deeply onto his cock, pushing and pulling him while the warm water streamed over both of them. Tarrant's moans and involuntary curses and senseless endearments echoed off the metal walls, ringing in his ears along with the wet sound of Avon's mouth sucking hungrily at him.

It didn't last long, not because Tarrant thought consciously about how much time was available, but because Avon never let up, never gave him a chance to cool down. When Avon parted Tarrant's buttocks and slid in a couple fingers, that was the end. Tarrant shouted and pulled Avon hard against his groin as he shot again and again into Avon's incredibly accommodating mouth. After a few moments he unclenched his fingers and released Avon. "Are you... all right?"

Avon looked up at Tarrant, his eyes unscrutably dark. "Yes, fine." He wiped a pearly drop from his lips. "Help me up, my knees have gone numb."

Tarrant obliged and felt Avon's cock against his thigh, still hard. He reached down and grabbed Avon, holding him still. "No, it's my turn, now." Avon sighed and leaned his head in resignation against Tarrant's shoulder.

"All right. Do it, then."

Tarrant put one arm around Avon, holding him tightly and suddenly feeling absurdly protective. He pumped hard several times, and then Avon shuddered, drew a deep breath and buried his head against Tarrant as he came, hotter than the shower, into Tarrant's hand. He didn't say Tarrant's name. Blessedly, neither did he mention Blake, which Tarrant had wondered about. They held together for a few minutes until the end of sequence warning chimed. They hastily finished washing in the remaining minute, then stood silently while the moisture extractors reclaimed the surplus from their skin and hair.

Tarrant had always found that arousing- like invisible hands caressing. Under the circumstances this intimacy should have been even more so, but this time it was... soothing, calming. He hadn't forgot Zeeona, or what poor odds there were against them, but he felt calm. Whatever happened, he was alive now. This minute. Listening to the man breathing beside him, feeling the warmth of that body, it reminded him that you're not dead until you're dead. Foolish to waste life while you have it. When the cycle finished, he paused to kiss Avon lightly, with nothing of passion in it. "Thank you, I needed that."

Avon looked deeply into his eyes, and then nodded. He unsealed the force partition and retrieved his clothing. "Do you want to take the first watch?" he said as he began dressing.

"Yes, all right." Tarrant was still tired, but no longer depressed. He smiled. "I can handle it."


End file.
